Reign of The Gavel
by Bree Z Claire
Summary: Right after "Michael". Wes returns from his semester abroad to find his Warblers in complete and utter chaos & worst of all under the command of some snake, Sebastian Smythe. Unpleasantries are exchanged and the Warblers find new fear in Wes & his gavel.
1. Chapter 1

_Hello my lovelies!_

_So sorry I haven't been updating recently but I've been very busy with school._

_Anyways, today's chapter was inspired by a very enlightening gif on tumblr...but I won't bore you with the details. But if you've been waiting for a BAMF!Wes, you've found him here.  
><em>

_Enjoy!_

_Bree Z Claire_

**_I do NOT own glee._**

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><p>Wes closed the door to his Jeep with a happy <em>thump<em> and adjusted the strap on his bag as he made his way past the large streaming fountain that made up the grand entrance of Dalton Academy. He'd returned from his semester abroad in Beijing yesterday and he was itching to come back. He didn't officially start classes until Monday but with so much work to do, Wes thought it was best to brush up on a few things; Warbler things.

Regionals was fast approaching and with him being away for a full semester Wes was sitting on edge wondering whether or not the Warblers had made the cut past Sectionals. Of course he'd given David and the others his email and they had been conversing for the first few months, but then Wes had gotten busy with school and a brand new social life and had shamefully forgotten about his email altogether. The last email he remembered was of Blaine's transfer becoming official which hadn't really taken him by surprise considering all the time he'd spent with Kurt over the summer.

He checked in at the office so his presence at school wouldn't raise any trouble or disorder – he wouldn't be attending class until Monday after all. He paused to say hello to some teachers and students, then made his way down the marble stone staircase towards the Warbler's practice room. It was oddly quiet and for a moment he found himself furrowing his brow in confusion. He glanced at his watch: 2:58. _Warblers practice begins in two minutes,_ he thought, _everyone should be in the room preparing for warm-up._

He leaned forward as he opened the doors and poked his head in to scan the room.

The room was empty.

"Oh dear God." He whispered. His heart was racing and his palms were beginning to sweat. He rushed towards the large council table to open one of the locked drawers with the key he wore around his neck. The polished gleam of his gavel was enough to bring his heart beat back down to normal. He hugged it to his chest with a deep hum and for a moment almost forgot about the horror of an empty practice room at – he glanced at his watch – 3:01. He could feel his nerves rising again so he clutched the gavel tighter in his hand. Just before he began hyperventilating – _Why aren't they here? Warm-ups should be underway! Regionals are coming up, why aren't they beginning rehearsals at the allotted Regionals-prep hours? _– Wes heard footsteps coming down the hall.

"Man, those New Directions can really dance."

"Yeah."

"Kurt said we could go visit Blaine tomorrow right?"

"Maybe we should arrange something for him you know? Like, as a sorry or something."

"I can't believe he's having surgery…"

The boys came in by twos and threes until they all froze just beyond the threshold of the entrance.

"W-Wes?" Nick and Jeff shared identical shocked looks that was mirrored throughout all of the other boys; all of the boys except one. Wes caught David's eye and immediately his heart slowed to normal human speed. They shared one of their telepathic conversations before Nick chimed in, "Is that really you?"

Wes rolled his eyes, "No, it's the tooth fairy - of course it me!" They all swarmed around each other then, exchange hard claps of the back, insanely wide smiles and a few too many 'It's really good to see yous' and 'So glad you're backs' than Wes was prepared to hear. He straightened up with a frowned – it was 3:16 now – and looked at the boys with a raised brow. "Why aren't you guys practicing? Rehearsal started 46 minutes ago!"

"But it's only quarter past!" Trent whimpered slightly.

"If we were in normal rehearsal mode," Wes wagged his gavel in the air and a few of them took an involuntary step back. "We're on a Regionals time schedule now which means rehearsals start a half hour earlier and end a full hour later. Or have you all forgotten everything in my absence?" To his surprise, he wasn't answered with the frightful nods of the boys or annoyed huffs from Thad and David. Instead, there were very noticeable exhales of relief from each and every member.

"It's good to have you back, man." Thad squeezed Wes' shoulder.

"You have no idea how good it is to have you home." David and Wes exchanged warm smiles. "How was your semester abroad?"

But before Wes could sum up an answer, and an apology for not replying to all his emails, a cough from behind the group echoed loudly beyond the mahogany doorway. The boys parted and soon there was a clear path from Wes to a boy who stood at the doorway. He had tall, sandy-brown hair and dark brown eyes that swirled with the amusement of someone in the midst of a game of cat and mouse. He was quite tall and the smirk on his face led Wes to imagine a snake who was calmly slithering their way into the Warbler's practice room.

_His _Warbler's practice room.

His grip on his gavel tightened when he spoke, "Who are you?" The boy promptly ignored him and sauntered forward instead. Wes could feel the others slowly retreating into the room to stand, perch, or sit on the nearby couches to watch the exchange with careful eyes. Hell, there hadn't been this much tension in the Warbler's room since…well since Blaine discussed his thoughts of transferring to McKinley – Wes hadn't been there but he'd been on Skype with David at the time discussing Council nominations when the boy filed in and Blaine dropped the bomb.

Wes frowned at the idea of seeing all his Warblers huddled together in what appeared to be anxiety and just a touch of fear. He already knew he wouldn't be liking this boy, whoever he was. "I'm sorry classmate, but this is a members-only room and a closed practice room reserved for members of Dalton Academy's Warblers. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Wesley Montgomery," The boy said instead. "The mother hen of the Warbler's coup and former head Councilman of the Warbler's Council. I've heard you're pretty scary with a gavel but seeing you up close I have to say I'm a little disappointed."

"Excuse me?" Wes could feel his eyebrows shoot up. They stood about a foot apart from each other, and though there was a clear height difference it wasn't by too much, and the boy looked down his nose at Wes.

"Sebastian Smythe, new leader of the Dalton Academy Warblers." He extended a hand and Wes found himself shaking it out of pure habit. He almost laughed at the thought of all those business meetings his father had forced him to attend and all the while complaining that he'd never learn anything from them. Apparently he had.

"Pleasure." His tone was anything but pleasurable. "I'm sorry. I must have heard you wrong, did you just say _leader_?"

"I did actually and a good thing too. I mean, when I transferred here, all I heard about was how amazing the Warblers were…I was surprised to see how utterly chaotic everything was when I stepped in to audition." Wes glared back at David and Thad, who simultaneously became very interested in their shoes. At the sight of the Warblers, something sparked in Wes' mind and reminded him of a little detail he was surprised he'd forgotten.

"Nick," The brunette turned. "You said something about Blaine needing surgery."

The boy nodded.

"What happened?"

"Well…" Nick began but couldn't seem to find the words. He looked at Jeff who continued for him.

"We were having a showdown type thing with the New Directions to battle out who would get to do Michael for Regionals," Wes raised an eyebrow. Even though they were competitors, the two show choirs were still friends. He failed to ask how both teams came up with Michael Jackson in the first place. "And things may have gotten out of hand…"

"We didn't mean to!" Trent jumped in, suddenly panicky and guilty. "It was supposed to be just a joke!"

"A harmless prank." Jeff looked miserable.

"When he fell on the floor we thought it was just theatrics…" Thad was adjusting his tie.

"Until he started screaming." David voice was small and rueful.

"An unfortunate incident." Sebastian's voice made Wes tighten his grip on his gavel even more. Was he not even sorry? "Collateral damage; it wasn't even meant for him in the first place."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Wes cried in outrage. More than a few members jolted upright at their Councilman who rarely raised his voice if at all. "This is – I can't even – Why would you even – UGH! This is not acceptable behaviour coming from the students of Dalton Academy and definitely not from the young gentlemen that are proudly named 'Rockstars' among their friends and peers. What ever happened to 'Once a Warbler, always a Warbler?'

"Need I remind you of the incident of '93 when Pavarotti's precursor, Martinelli, was kidnapped from the grounds by our rival show choir group of Vladimir High? Did our father Warblers fight dirty or did they take the high road and challenge them to what was later known as one of the greatest Harmony battles to go down in history ever? To this day, every generation of Warbler strive to successfully obtain the mastery of ten part harmonies. It is a system that lines our warm-up practices and determines future members of Warblers; The Blended Harmonies Test!" By the time he finished the eyes that stared back at him were no longer those of anxious, fearful young boys. Eyes that seemed dimed and lost before were now bright with the glow of someone who had just surfaced and could now 'see the light'. Wes wondered what else this Sebastian character had swiped from his Warblers. He turned back to the boy who was wearing a rather bored expression on his face.

"Wow…it must have been hard." He shook his head and regarded the Asian with a look of pity.

"What was?" Wes narrowed his eyes.

"Growing up with rule books and regulations. You never had fun did you, just sat at home reading textbooks all day?"

"I have a healthy respect for the rules which is more than I can say about you." His knuckles were probably white from clutching his gavel so hard but Wes couldn't help it. This…_slime_ got under his skin in ways he didn't know were possible. "What happened to Blaine?"

"An unfortunately accident." Sebastian smiled coolly.

"Specifically!" His voice was hard.

"A Slushie." He stated simply and Wes' eye widened. It was well known that the jocks at McKinley High had somewhat of a habit of drenching unfortunate glee club members with the icy drinks. From what he had heard, they hurt but never cause enough serious damage to send anyone to the hospital. Let alone lead to surgery.

"There were um…rock salts in it." The voice was so quiet Wes couldn't even tell who'd spoken.

Wes gritted his teeth and felt his entire body tense. "You deliberately harmed a former member of this club?" There was no doubt in the minds of the Warblers sitting aside that Wes could've cut glass with that glare. Even Sebastian's smirk seemed to sober at the Head Councilman's tone.

"Like I said; collateral damage. The Slushie was intended for Kurt, not Blaine."

"Kurt is a former member of this group and he was a valued member –"

"He got what was coming to him." Sebastian said darkly and there was a mass intake of breath from the group as a dozen pair of eyes stared full blank at him.

The movement was like a snap of a rubber band. Wes gripped the head of his gavel in his fist and swung hard, hearing a rather satisfying crack when he made contact with Sebastian's jaw. _The bigger they are, the harder they fall, _and true to the idiom, Sebastian fell hard. From his peripheral, Wes spotted a small cassette tape slide across the floor.

Every Warbler in the room was on their feet in an instant, only to stop dead when they caught Wes' death glare directed at them. He knelt down to pick up the tape, rolling it in his hands for a moment before holding it up; his eyes were still on the boy sprawled on the floor. "What's this?" he asked without turning.

David answered him. "I-It's a recording of Sebastian confessing to putting rock salts in the Slushie. That scary girl, Santana recorded it." If his voice wavered in fear, Wes ignored it; all his attention was aimed at the snake at his feet. Sebastian had recovered slightly but remained on the floor with his eyes glaring hard at Wes.

"Well then." Wes stood up straight and crossed his arms, bringing his hand to rest comfortably on his gavel handle once more. "I'm not sure Dean Jones will be very happy about this. He and my father are close friends you see and if he were to hear that one of our newest students – even if it is a Smythe," The name had been rolling around the files of his brain throughout their whole exchange and he'd just now placed the name of the state attorney's son. "If they were to hear a student was caught in the act of such ungentleman-like conduct such as deliberately blinding another student…"

"You —"

"—And with such damning evidence too," He twirled the cassette in his hands. "Well, how could they _not_ expel you and put that big red stain on your permanent record?"

"You wouldn't—" His voice was low but anyone could hear the quiver as he spoke.

Wes considered this for a moment, enjoying the fear blossom out into Sebastian's eyes the longer Wes stood there silently. "You're right," he finally said. But before Sebastian had any time to breathe a sigh of relief, Wes was up close and personal so they were face to face. His voice was pure danger when he whispered, "But if you ever set foot in this school again, if you ever think or attempt to harm any of my Warblers or any of our friends…the next head on my gavel with be yours." Wes didn't need to wait for a reply because by the time he turned to face his fellow Warblers, the echoes of feet were down the hallway and out Dalton's doors.

_Snakes really are lightning fast when they want to be._

"Wes–"

"Holy crap–"

"That was amazing–"

"How did you–"

All voices cut off. All movement froze. All thoughts stopped dead when they caught sight of the dark eyes of their head Councilman. There were audible gulps throughout the group as everyone exchanged familiar fearful glances, ones that could only be the result of an angry Wes Montgomery.

"Now," he said in a dangerously quiet nature. "As much as I'd like to interrogate each and everyone one of you right away – " relief turned to pure dread with the addition of those two last words – "we have more pressing matters to attend to."

Wes walked over to the Council's desk and promptly took his seat in the center. After receiving a pointed look, David and Thad all but sprinted to their spots by his side. David pulled up the Official Minutes book and Thad took out his clipboard, preparing to jot down notes. Once the Council was prepared to his satisfaction, Wes brought the gavel down with an easy bang. As if he'd waved a wand, everyone seemed to snap out of their reveries to get hit, hard and cold, in the face with a reality they had barely believed happened.

"It is now 3:47PM, let this Warbler's meeting commence. If everyone will take their seats we have some important matters to discuss." He folded his hands together and settled into a year-old routine he'd built himself. "Now it seems that a Hell lot of disgraceful behaviour has resulted out of my absence; that's going to stop. I will have order in this Warbler room and I will not stand for any more chaotic behaviour is that understood?

"One of our own –former or not—is injured as a result of our carelessness and it is our duty to set things right. I suggest an 8 part harmony medley of either Katy Perry, Pink, or Michael Jackson. There's a lot to make up for and it would seem we are short on time, therefore I call this meeting extended an extra two hours. Are there any objections?"

Obviously there were none.

"Good," Wes let a smile curve his lips. "Let's get cracking shall we?"


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello!_

_Why do I write these things? I really don't know...this is it though! I swear! I don't know where Wes and David stand in this one, I really don't, but I guess I'll leave that up to you guys.  
><em>

_Enjoy,_

_Bree Z Claire_

**_I don't own Glee. No sir-ry._**

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><p>He didn't stop running until he'd slammed open the main doors and almost landed himself head first into the fountain outside Dalton. His reflection in the water stared back at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks as he continued to gulp down breath after breath of air.<p>

"Get it together Smythe," the boy shut his eyes tight. He shook his head, hoping the motion would help him forget about what had just happened. _What the hell _did _just happen anyways? _Of all the challenges he'd ever faced, people he'd had to step on to get to where he was now, never in his life had he ever met someone like Wesley Montgomery. On paper, the Warbler was just another high achieving, spotless record, rich family descendant – a typical Dalton student. There was nothing special about him and Sebastian was positive that he would have no trouble winning him over just like the rest of the boys.

Except… he had been wrong, and very wrong at that.

Who he thought was just another high-class, goody-two-shoe, afraid-to-walk-out-of-line-because-daddy-might-get-angry boy turned out to be something a little more unexpected and horrifying. A flash of those dark brown eyes sent shivers down Sebastian's spine, so much so that he had to dip his hands in the fountain and rinse his face to clear his head. _God those eyes…_

Where Blaine was the top-dog of the Warblers with his natural charm and adorable quirks and Kurt carried a kind of assertive 'I'm better than you and I know it' queen-bitch air to him – he hated to admit that it was one of his only redeemable qualities – Wes was…different. Just like Blaine, Sebastian had heard stories about the Head Warbler Councilman but he didn't think twice of it because, after all, taming the Warblers didn't seem to be much of a difficult task in the least so really, how great could the guy be? Hell, he himself had moved from new member to captain in a matter of weeks and did a damn good job doing so, or at least he had been up until this week.

He made his way back inside and into the main study hall, pacing raggedly around the carpet before deciding to crash down on the bay window seat. Staring out into the gardens now covered in snow, his breath still came in stuttering intakes. He leaned his head back with sigh, listening to his heartbeat speed up and slow down every time the memory replayed in his head.

"_I'm not sure Dean Jones will be very happy about this. He and my father are close friends you see and if he were to hear that one of our newest students – even if it is a Smythe…If they were to hear a student was caught in the act of such ungentleman-like conduct such as deliberately blinding another student…"_

"_You —"_

"—_And with such damning evidence too. Well, how could they not expel you and put that big red stain on your permanent record?"_

"_You wouldn't—" _

"_You're right…But if you ever set foot in this school again, if you ever think or attempt to harm any of my Warblers or any of our friends…the next head on my gavel will be yours."_

He shuddered again, but this time with a smile. Hell…no other Warbler spoke the way Wes did. His voice was strong with a power and authority that even Thad and David didn't possess, despite them being Councilmen themselves and by definition leaders of the Warblers. Both of them had just as much authority and say as Wes did. He remembered the way everyone crowded around the Asian, so happy to see him, and then how fearful they were when he'd glared at them after Wes had struck Sebastian. It hit him then and there that Wes was a leader capable of gaining loyalty as well as fear from his fellow men. Wes was definitely a man of power; the leader of the pack; the best of the best, and more importantly: number one.

And Sebastian would be damned if he didn't always have the best.

Blaine had the whole cutesy, bashful school-boy thing going on and it was true he looked like sex on a stick, but he wasn't the Warbler's leading soloist anymore. All he was now was another public school average Joe, even with his golden voice. So if Kurt wanted to keep his sub-par average boyfriend to himself, so be it. Sebastian had his sights set on someone else.

Sebastian licked his lips and dug out his phone to check the time before heading back to the practice room. It was time for round two.

_**~ xXx ~**_

"Good work everyone; we'll see you all tomorrow after school. David, myself, and Nick will be driving us all to Blaine's house so everyone be sure to pick their car wisely as warm-ups will be done during the drive. The time is now 4:53PM, this meeting is concluded." Wes rapped the gavel a few times before leaning back in his chair. As everyone filed out, Thad and David made their final notes and adjustments to their papers before packing up. Wes finally stood and tucked away some music into his bag.

"I don't think I've seen them work this hard since we rehearsed our goodbye number for Blaine when he transferred." Thad shook his head with a smile.

"Well," Wes shrugged. "Where Blaine is concerned, we've always stepped up our game. Remember our goodbye number to Kurt? He brings out the best in us."

"So do you." David said simply, and Wes flushed.

"I do what is expected of a leader, that's all."

"You do a lot more than that Wes. You keep us on track; you keep us from doing stupid things—"

"Like Slushieing our friends…" Thad noted sadly. David nodded.

"—you're just and level-headed and you make us what we are: a group. Man, we were a mess with Blaine gone. We fell apart when you left." David stared at the floor as he stuffed his Official Minutes binder into his bag. His voice was soft when he spoke next. "We missed you."

Wes didn't know what to say so he just nodded and smiled.

Thad rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag. "Oh please don't tell me you two are going to be all co-dependant again."

The two snapped their heads up and glared at Thad, but their frowns quickly dissolved into fits of laughter when they met each other's eyes. David slung and arm around Wes who did the same –the two fit like two pieces of a puzzle—and smiled mockingly at his friend. "You're just jealous of our epic bromance."

"Bromance," Wes nodded animatedly with hand gestures. "Of epic proportions!"

"I think you're one letter off, my friends." Thad raised a brow.

"You mock us, sir!" The two flung back at him and Thad gave an indignant gasp.

"That's my line!"

"It's ours now." And once again, the room filled with bouts of laughter. Thad crossed his arms, pouting furiously while Wes and David were trying their hardest and failing to keep straight faces. In the end, David decided to treat Thad to a dessert at a nearby café while Wes stayed behind to finish off some work which David and Thad knew meant 'I need to spend the next hour polishing my gavel.' Wes punched them both lightly in the arm and shooed them out, closing the doors behind him and facing the empty room.

After a moment's rest, Wes walked back towards the Council table and dug out the polishing cloth in his gavel's drawer. He ignored the buzzes from his phone; probably David and Thad fighting over desserts. He was sitting in his chair, wondering if maybe he'd banged the gavel a tad too hard today - _damn, where did this dent come from?_—when he heard a sound coming from his left. Wes looked up and immediately got to his feet, all traces of laugh lines and bubbly nature vanished.

"I thought I told you to never come back." He narrowed his eyes but apparently it had no affect because the Warbler before him just smirked.

"Actually, I believe your exact words were 'the next head on my gavel will be yours.'" He chuckled deeply and licked his lips. His hands were in his pockets and he was leaning back in a cocky manner that suggested no recollection of the event that had just taken place an hour earlier. Wes bit his tongue, _maybe the dent was from hitting his thick skull._ He laughed bitterly.

"Your behaviour in the presence of your club members and fellow classmates has been both disgraceful and cruel. Your disregard for rules and boundaries are appalling. You walk in here all high and mighty expecting to take over without thinking of the repercussions of any of the actions you take. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't have you expelled right here and now!"

During his little speech he was well aware of Sebastian's eyes on him, how he licked his lips and blinked slowly, leaving a half-lidded expression on his smug looking face. The blond moved closer, trailing a hand over the Council table and stopping a few inches short from where Wes had placed his gavel. He eyed the hardwood mallet for a moment before looking up, flashing his teeth in a sultry smirk.

"You know…you're kind of hot when you're angry." His smirk widened when Wes' eyes grew large in shock. "You doing anything Friday night?"

"W-what?" Wes sputtered, unable to place the conversation anymore. _Is this guy for real?_

"There's this wicked night club, _Scandals_. It looks like you could use a night out to relax."

Wes raised a brow but the boy didn't looked phased in the least.

"Or I could take you out for a nice dinner if that's more your thing. My treat of course," His voice seemed to deepen as he continued, eyes growing dark. He leaned in closer, grazing his lips over the boy's ear, and slid his hand further down the table.

_Oh, I see._

"You see, Wesley, there are two kinds of people in this world: winners and losers; the great and the expendable. I like a winner; I like the best. I only accept the best. And a guy like you? I'm sure you can appreciate the finer things in life and know the difference between what's good and what's trash. So let me lay this out for you plain and simple. I want you."

Wes slammed his hand down on the table, watching boredly as Sebastian drew his hand back with a wince. "Rule number one: never touch the gavel." He stalked forward and wasn't surprised to find that with every step he took, Sebastian matched him with a step backwards. He backed the sandy-blond into the door one step at a time. "Since you didn't seem to hear me the first time, let me be frank.

"First impressions can be tough and when I saw you I knew it. If that smirky meerkat face of yours wasn't enough, that little stunt you just pulled blew it." He lowered his voice in a growl, "Now I don't know who the Hell you think you are but if you think I'm going to turn into another one of your mindless flunkies, you've got another thing coming. Come after me or my Warblers again and I'll have you nailed to the wall."

Sebastian, back to the door, gave a nervous smile. "You're a lot of talk you know that?"

"So are you."

"True," he took a step to the side and spun and in the blink of an eye, the tables were turned. Wes let out a grunt as Sebastian shoved him against the door. He reached for the door knob at his hip but another hand found his and squeezed, the crushing pressure made him wince. Sebastian chuckled low. "But I can be a man of action when desperate times call." He leaned in…

Everything seemed to slow in those moments as Wes went from being wide-eyed to shutting them with a gasp. His hand was still crushed against the door knob but the small hints of vibrations again the metal made his heart leap a thousand feet. Tightening his grip on the smooth metal, Wes twisted the knob as hard as he could and ducked.

For the second time that day Sebastian was knocked to the ground.

David leaned in, poking his head through the doorway. He took in the sight of his best friend crouched on the other side of the door and the former Warbler leader on the hardwood a feet few away, and frowned. "I think the power's finally gotten to your head Wes. Turning into the school bully really isn't very becoming of you."

The Asian rose and brushed down his jacket. David ran a quick gaze over his friend, who looked a little shaken but otherwise steady. "What are you doing here, David?"

"Didn't you get my text? Me and Thad were wondering if you wanted dessert."

"Thad and I, David. Not Me and Thad." Wes rolled his eyes. "I thought you were acing English class for crying out loud." That last part was drowned out by a droning 'lalalalalalala.'

"I take that as a no then?" Wes scoffed. "Well grab your bags and let's go!"

"David!" The Warbler Head scolded and wave his hand at the body to his left. "There is a fellow classmate lying unconscious on the floor not three feet away from us!"

"I am _not_ buying dessert for _him_." He sighed after a moment's thought. "Should I go get Jones or should I?"

Wes groaned and ran a hand down his face, "I'll do it."

_**~ xXx ~**_

"So," The Dean looked over the young man on the floor. There was a rather large bump on his forehead where a bruise was starting form. "What happened here exactly?"

"Dancing accident." David held up his index finger and nodded as if making a scientific observation. "His shoes proved insufficient when attempting his ballerina turn and he slipped and bumped his head."

"…"

"It's true!"

"David," Wes pushed him away via hand in face and stepped forward. "Sebastian and I had a confrontation. He backed me into the door and attempted to kiss me." He ignored the way David snapped his head around and grabbed his wrist. "I'm alright," he whispered before turning back to the Dean.

"Anyways, before anything could happen, David opened the door as I ducked and it ended up knocking Sebastian unconscious."

"I see." Dean Jones gave a nod. After a short lecture on door safety, the two boys were free to go. Wes and David walked down the long corridors lit by the setting sun shining through the large windows. They walked in silence until they approached the parking lot and Wes could make out Thad's outline in the passenger seat of David's car. David pulled him aside.

"Are you sure you're okay?" His two hands rested on Wes' shoulders.

"I'm fine." He smiled at the familiarity of it all. All the students at Dalton thought Wes was a mother hen to his Warblers when in reality it was David who mothered over him more than anything else.

"Positive? 'Cause that guy drinks like ten coffees a day. We're talking major coffee breath here."

"David, I'm fine. You knocked him out remember?"

"By accident." He muttered and the two of them started walking again. When they got in the car Thad turned around and gave Wes a nod, asking what had taken both of them so long. The two friends just looked at each other and laughed.

"Dance incident," Wes pursed his lips.

"Insufficient shoe-hardwood friction." David narrowly kept in a laugh as he pulled out into the street.

The rest of the drive consisted of Thad playing his own version of Twenty Questions involving a round of, "What? What happened? What'd I miss? Guys? Tell me!" over and over again.

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><p><em>PS- can you catch the <strong>Hairspray<strong> reference?_


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